Just Let Him Go About His Merry Way, Douglas
by inuyasha's lullaby - farewell
Summary: Things are fine. He'll be fine. They'll all be fine. – 50th fanfic celebration.


Damnit, I'm on rounds tonight. My shift started a few minutes ago at midnight, and I won't get anyway sleep until six in the damned morning. I wonder if Link will want to take over my shift. Have I pissed that elf-boy off recently? Hmm, I did drink the last of his Lon Lon Milk, but I blamed it on Villager. Damnit, those Hylians know how to make damn good milk. Argh, why am I thinking about milk? If someone sees me daydreaming (or nightdreaming, haha), then someone's gonna lose their shit and start panicking about the war again.

Ugh, that crappy war. The Second Subspace War, if you've been wondering what war I'm talking about and has been living under a rock for the past five years. No one knew Tabuu would appear again, and no one knew that some-fucking-thing called the Master Core would attack us. At least he took Tabuu out, saving us the trouble of doing it.

Of course, with some of my fellow Smashers dead, the whole "saving the world" thing became a bit harder. Those who lived…well, Mario will be glad to tell you how easy it is to fight with one arm.

The Hands had been on our asses after the war, making everyone have night shifts like we're at the office. "It's for the prevention of a third war," they claimed. No, it's just to make me lose freakin' sleep every two weeks. We've defeated the Master Core; I doubt he'll be resurrected, unlike Tabuu. Hell, it wasn't even the Tabuu we've fought in the first war, just some damned complicated puppet. It was complicated and full of twists and turn and I was just totally done with the crap. God knows how I longed for a drink as I walked through some complicated labyrinth with know-it-all Marth, his stoic, futuristic counterpart Lucina, and that asshole Mewtwo. I'm surprised that none of us died; we were such a screw-up group, despite having The Invincible Wondrous Smartass Bluenette Twins as the unelected leaders, and I really hated having to rely on Mewtwo to save my ass more than once.

I wonder if he can save my ass one more time by taking over my shift.

…No, scratch that. He has made it quite clear that he hates me with a fiery passion. I thought Pokémon were supposed to be cheery or somethin'.

God, I really, _really_ need a drink.

Screw it, I can handle this like a man. I'm Captain Douglas Jay Falcon, for God's sake. If I can handle two damn wars and near-death experiences, then I can handle sleep deprivation in order to ensure the safety of others that may or may not give a damn about me.

I stop in my tracks and look at the clock. I've been in the foyer for the past hour, nightdreaming about pointless shit. Crap. I've five more hours to go, and I wasted one doing the opposite of what my job required me to do. See, this is why I shouldn't be on rounds. I'm much more competent at things when I'm not so damned tired.

I make my way to the first floor, walking past the various rooms of sleeping Smashers. Most of the Pokémon are on this floor, and as I walk past Greninja's room, I realize that Snake was right – he really does snore. Fuck, Lucario must receive little to no sleep, seeing as how his room is right next to Greninja's. It sounds like the Ninja Pokémon is causing an earthquake. Maybe this is why Lucario "mediates" during the day: it's his way of getting a mini nap while simultaneously telling everyone to piss off, don't bother me.

Damn, that sounds genius. Gotta try that meditation thing one day.

I shake my head. Can't think about sleep right now. I decide the first is relatively safe – no spooky monsters or ghosts or whatever. I walk up the stairs, heading to the second floor, wincing every damn time one of the steps decides to creak. God, are we so poor that we can't even afford to replace the stairs? My foot leaves the last and steps onto the carpet that covers the hardwood floor. To be completely honest, the second floor looks like complete shit compared to all other floors. Unfortunately, this is where my room is. There's only a few people on this floor, and the hallway is relatively short, making it easy to do a quick check. I take a quick glance into Link and Shulk's room, since their light is on for some damn reason. I see Link with a pillow over his head and his covers scattered messily onto the floor. Shulk is at his desk, reading a book and wearing nothing but boxers. He turns to me, and I see that long, purple scar that runs down his cheek to his collarbone. I try my hardest not to shiver; there were so many Shadow Bugs that day, and we didn't know these types can shoot out poison, and the poor boy just couldn't handle them all.

He smiles at me, waving, and I return the gesture. He hasn't really been the same since that event. He just reads so many books, or occasionally stares off into space for hours on end. No one is exactly sure as to how we can help, so we just let him do whatever he wants, sometimes striking up a near-normal conversation with.

I leave Shulk to finish his reading and head straight to my room. I take a quick peek inside and see that Samus is on her side of the bed, clutching tightly onto my pillow. We're one of the few people here who is reduced to sharing a bed. Samus hated the idea (she claims that I am a pervert, which is only slightly true), and I did too, seeing as how I heard rumors that Samus has a tendency to sleep wildly. It's true, and there are too many nights where I end up sleeping on the floor or taking the extra bed in Sonic's room.

Lord knows how much I just wanted to get on that bed, push Samus onto the floor, and drift off into a much-needed slumber, but I know I can't do that just yet. Damnit, I can hear the bed calling my name. I reluctantly turn away from my door, closing it, and trudge on up to the third floor, the much-nicer looking floor and where most of the Smashers are located. Everything looks so fancy, with most of the stuff being rebuilt after the war. Why couldn't the second floor receive this kind of treatment, I don't know.

I check on the younger Smashers first, and deem them safe and sound. I skip the door that has the sign in golden, cursive letters "Toon Link" on it. No one can really bare to go back in that room, lest they want bittersweet memories to slap them hard across the face. Shulk tells me that Link still has nightmares about that day, screaming, "It should've been me, not him!" It's actually pretty depressing, so I walk away from the door, not bothering to look back. I walk past Ike and Little Mac's room; they're arguing about some video game. I can hear Dark Pit complain about them, and Pit telling him hush. An argument ensues between them, and I ignore it, walking further down the corridor. It's long as hell, and there was always this sense of eeriness about it. It is the representation of "Holy hell, I don't want to be here!" I personally hate being on this damn floor. I make to the end of the hallway, where the stairs to the fourth floor are and where Marth and Lucina's room is located.

I always found it weird, how close they've gotten after the war. Not that bonding is bad or anything, but they are just...indescribable. They barely speak to anyone else anymore; just to each other. Hell, I don't know what happened to them – Mewtwo and I had gotten separated from them temporarily during the war, and shit must have gone down – and they've been so distant. Those bluenettes just whisper to each other, occasionally taking the quick glance at their fellow Smashers, like we're strangers, liker we're intruding on their personal business. I'm not even sure if I can call them The Invincible Wondrous Smartass Bluenette Twins anymore. A lot of us quietly mention it from time to time, but otherwise than that, we just let Marth and Lucina be together. Kinda like Shulk, we just leave it alone.

Though, it's really hard to ignore the suggestive noises I hear coming from their room.

I hear a loud noise, startling the crap out of me, and I turn around to see Dark Pit on the floor of the hallway. Pit is standing over him, and he looks incredibly pissed.

"Fuck you, Pittoo! You can sleep on the couch tonight!"

"The hell did I do this time?" Dark Pit retorted. " _What?! Tell me, damnit!_ "

The light angel turned back into the room, slamming the door shut. I was surprised; the last time Pit was so pissed like that was during the war. It was quite the scary sight. He's changed so much, too. There are times where I hear Palutena lament about it to Samus. It's a damn shame.

I watched Dark Pit get up, dusting himself off and grumbling incoherently. He turned to my direction. I just shrugged, unable to say anything. He shrugged as well and walked away, heading down the stairs. It was surprising that not a single person bothered to leave their room to check out the situation. Damn, does this happen on a nightly basis or something? Has their relationship deteriorated that badly? The third floor is full of psychopaths.

Well, I guess I shouldn't say "psychopaths". They're just people who can't let go and move on yet.

I shake my head and go on up to the fourth and final floor. There's less people here than on the second floor, and it's just so damn creepy. It's nearly pitch-black up here, save for the two candles that Peach leaves out for people like me. I hear a clicking noise, and I assume that it's Rosalina on her laptop. Her door is slightly open, so I peek inside and prove myself right. She's staring intently at the screen, smiling weirdly while her Luma sleeps next to her. I shrug and allow her to attend to her business, not even bothering to think of what she could possibly being doing. I let my mind wander too much tonight.

I walk past the candles Peach has set out. Bless that princess, being one of the few sane Smashers left. The candles look like they're getting ready to go out. The flame flickers slightly. I decide I need to hurry up; I'll be damned to remain on this floor once the darkness envelops it. I walk to the end of the hallway when a creaking, squishing noise catches my attention. What the hell? I doubt Dark Pit followed me upstairs. And even if he did, he wouldn't be making those unnatural noises. I look behind me, just to make sure. There's no one behind me. Shit, I finally appreciate the importance of rounds. I stand still for a moment, and realize the noises are coming from the last room at the end of the hallway: Olimar's.

I carefully inch my way to the door, which just happened to be open. There was the weird smell emanating from the room. It was so familiar, yet I couldn't exactly figure out what it was. Damnit, why isn't else hearing this weird crap? An overbearing sense of dread covers me. If it's something serious, then I'm screwed. I make it to his room and stand in front of the doorway. I see Olimar sitting up on the bed, his back facing away from me, his arms jerking violently. I gulp, hoping I didn't walk in on a seriously gross moment. Against my better judgments, I call out to him.

He turns his head slowly to me, then his whole body. God, the way he turns is so _weird_ and _creepy_. It's pretty damn unnerving. I squint to see what he has in his possession. It's a small, limp-looking thing. The shape of it implies that it's one of those creature things, his Pikmin, though I'm not sure what color. An unusual liquid seemed to be dripping from the Pikmin, a dark-colored liquid. I didn't have the chance to properly deduce what it was for Olimar threw the Pikmin to the floor nonchalantly and jumped off his bed. He walked towards me, and part of me had the instinct to just run, to just say fuck rounds and to go to bed.

The small captain approached, staring blankly into my eyes. He nodded, and I nodded back. Shit, what else could I do? I was utterly speechless. I watched him grasp the doorknob and slowly close the door, slowly, gradually, until…shut. I stood there, dumbfounded about what I just witnessed. I wanted to ask more, but I decided against that. Just let him go about his merry way, Douglas; just let them all. There's not much I can do about it but sit back and hope for the best. I quickly turn around and walk back down the hallway to the stairs. The candles go out as soon as I make it to the bottom of the staircase, leaving the fourth floor in complete and total darkness. I take a quick glance at the clock. It was four in the morning. I could do another check around the mansion.

Though I'm just going to skip the fourth floor this time. It's obviously safe up there.

* * *

 **I have this whole headcan** **on about the Second Subspace War and I don't know why.**

 **Anyway, to anyone that knows me, I really like writing dark things, and I believed the greatest way to celebrate reaching 50 fanfics was to write this crap. So, yeah, here ya go. I think I did pretty well here.**

 **Now, watch and behold as it takes me another five years to reach a hundred fanfics.**


End file.
